Yesterday I went to the Town and Country Fair with my floaty neighbour.. The weather was chilly and sunny in equal bursts with occasional splodges of fat rain drops …there is nothing quite like the English summer. My eyes have been a bit difficult this last week so at first I was subdued and sullen wandering around between the organic jam stalls and the sheep shearing.
Things brightened up considerably after I bumped into the vintage cider stall however. A swift glug or three and it all became 'perfekedly charmin’. '
At the far end of the field were two Suffolk Punches. From a distance they just look like big horses but when you are close they tower above you, all massive and golden and sweet smelling, with hooves like buckets and liquid brown eyes and soft grey noses. There are only 420 in the whole world. Even the Giant Panda has better odds on extinction. There is something otherworldly and magical about them as if they are moving through a slightly different air to us..
As I stood slightly hypnotised by the creatures, several men strode past with falcons on their arms, two sheep dogs rounded up some Indian river ducks for a wildly applauding, enthusiastic crowd, a group of glassy eyed, mid-exam-up-the-yazoo students shared a Wild Boar burger with chips and a toddler in wellies was virtually smothered under the weight of the five-foot long stuffed tiger her Dad had just won at the fairground.
‘You can’t make this up’ I thought heading back towards the cider tent.
And I didn’t.